


Quarantine 101 with Dr. Rogers (and the Husband)

by lordelannette



Series: Stucky One-Shots [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky the Husband, M/M, Online Classes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Quarantine, Serious Steve Rogers, Soft Bucky, Steve the Professor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24873751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordelannette/pseuds/lordelannette
Summary: Like every university professor worldwide, Dr. Rogers of NYU is adapting to online classes during quarantine.It is during this time that Dr. Rogers' students discover their professor's stunningly beautiful husband and other key aspects of his private life that is usually kept locked tight.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Stucky One-Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895044
Comments: 115
Kudos: 1070





	Quarantine 101 with Dr. Rogers (and the Husband)

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw that there was a trend going around writing fics about quarantine. I read one and borrowed the format and created this little piece. 
> 
> ***The story is inspired and formatted from Professor Graham's Cheekbones Hotty & Extraordinary Foodie Husband by TheSilverQueen. https://archiveofourown.org/works/23402059 ***
> 
> *Re-edited as of 2/7/2021*

Online learning is like two sides of a coin, as many students at NYU quickly discover with quarantine. 

The whole pandemic thing sucks as their year is cut short and there are thousands of people worldwide dying for fucks sake, but at least they aren’t expected to wake up at the ass-crack of dawn anymore and spend an hour circling around the campus parking lots for a chance at a spot all while balancing a coffee, laptop, textbook, papers, late breakfast and who-knows-what-else in their arms or stuffed haphazardly in their backpacks while they run like chickens with their heads cut off praying they won’t make a scene entering the classroom a handful of minutes late. No, those are the olden days-- back when the whole world wasn’t scrambling for face masks and Lysol spray and weren’t praying endlessly that they’d manage to buy a pack of toilet paper at the end of the week and their mental health wasn’t in  _ total  _ shambles. 

Now, they’re just living in a dystopian world-- y’know, the usual. A world where they can wake up and attend classes in their pajamas, hide their cameras if they want, do quizzes and tests with their textbooks open (but  _ ssh _ , don’t tell the professors that!), and most importantly, they don’t have to risk their health leaving the security of their homes. 

And how are they allowed to still be ‘college students’ without actually physically attending said college? One simple answer: technology. Or better known as God’s grace to the world because without it, there would be no way in hell remote learning would even be possible, let alone any basic functions of modern life. 

So while the entire world shuts down, the students bunker down and stay patient while professors scramble to convert their lesson plans online knowing damn well they sometimes ( _ often _ ) struggle with their slide clickers and projecting their laptop screens for their students to see. 

Doctor Rogers, the head director of the NYU History Department, is no exception, and even though he’s a fine piece of ‘eye-candy’ as many of his students will say and obviously knows his shit like the back of his hand, no one is particularly ecstatic when he announces that he’s requiring mandatory attendance through Zoom sessions for the remainder of the semester. 

_ But _ , if it wasn’t for said decision, none of them would have ever discovered the Husband. 

* * *

During the first week, Dr. Rogers’ should have been given an award for how  _ almost  _ smooth his online classes go. Compared to the bumbling others that can’t figure out how to un-mute their microphones or understand that webcams turned on  _ should  _ be an option, Dr. Rogers is literally a breath of fresh air that many of them embrace eagerly. 

There are a few hiccups in the beginning but that’s to be expected because even though Dr. Rogers  _ looks  _ like a super soldier, he’s only human (or at least until proven otherwise). It takes a good few sessions until Dr. Rogers gets the camera angle of his lectures right but other than that, things run fairly smoothly. 

The camera quality is a bit jarring at first, with how crystal-clear the picture is. It makes most of them wonder what state of the art computer he’s working on or if he’s using those fancy cameras that professional bloggers and influencers use-- which would be unexpected, honestly, but not too out-there since Dr. Rogers is exactly the type to go above and beyond for his students. Plus, there’s the whole perfect lighting issue too, because there’s no way that light shining onto Dr. Rogers is natural. Definitely not. 

But when they move their speculations away from the devices their professor uses, they settle on the man himself. The camera angle only shows the top part of Dr. Rogers and the monitor where he projects his slides, but it also shows off a bit of the room wherever he’s situated. It gives them just enough to notice that Dr. Rogers still wears pressed button up shirts and ties and even suit jackets on some days, while they all choose to literally roll out of bed and hope they look presentable enough (they're lazy, but not crazy-- and  _ yes _ , there’s a difference). 

And then there’s Dr. Rogers house. It’s definitely what any of them were expecting, that’s for sure. The house-- or at least whatever room their professor is stationed up in-- is remarkably chic. The decor and wallpaper and furniture compliment each other so on the mark that it looked like it popped right out of  _ Home Magazine _ or something just as Pinterest worthy. 

It’s not that their professor is designer inclined, rather, the man seemed like the low-maintenance type who didn’t give two flying fucks about thousand-dollar worthy decorations that best suited curtains and woodgrains or whatever the hell interior designers did (and none of them missed the bouquet of wildflowers on a nearby counter that were definitely handpicked and probably home grow because it was just too rustic and natural looking to have been something bought from a store-- and certainly  _ none  _ of them had Dr. Rogers being a gardener on their bingo cards). 

The man was certainly an enigma. 

In their curiosity, some of them go even further and try to make out the images scattered strategically around the room. There’s a nice collage of different sized frames on the wall that Dr. Rogers has on display for them and while they know the pictures must be of Dr. Rogers and those important to him, no one can make out anything apart from unrefined blobs. They try their damn hardest though, there’s no denying that. It’s just there’s only so much of being nosy that they could afford because if there was one guarantee, it was that Dr. Rogers didn’t wait for his students. 

Their professor is known for being immaculate in his details so of course  _ it  _ happens while everyone is scribbling down important dates and facts that if one wasn’t looking closely, they would have missed when a glass cup of iced something was placed in the edge of their view. If someone was paying even closer attention, they would have taken note of the silver wedding band on the person’s left hand and how it was barely peeking past the loose edge of a navy sweater. 

It’s not a shock that Dr. Rogers is married, and it’s even less of a shock that his partner is evidently a  _ he  _ because while Dr. Rogers is incredibly quiet about his private life, he told them those two (and only those two) facts during the first day of lecture when the syllabus was given out. But none of them have ever seen pictures or even heard a name so naturally, they all feel anticipation dance down their spine at the possibility of getting to see who managed to snag Dr. Rogers and get the privilege to call him husband. 

The hand rests on the surface of the desk Dr. Rogers is set up at and pale, nimble fingers quietly skim against the glass. In a move so expectly done, Dr. Rogers finishes his sentence, pauses for the briefest of moments to look at whoever is in that room with him, and nods. 

Half the class is stuck staring at how soft Dr. Rogers’ eyes get, how relaxed his posture goes. The other half raise their eyebrows when Dr. Rogers answers and his voice comes out so much different-- more gentler but rougher-- that many of them think there’s been a technology glitch and they’ve been switched into another Zoom session, making them look up from their scribbles. 

“About another fifteen minutes,” Dr. Rogers says and it must satisfy the other person in the room with him because the hand slides away and Dr. Rogers’ eyes drift to something off to the side and they all hear a faint noise of whoever it was walking off. Dr. Rogers’ attention stays off of them for just enough seconds that they see the softest of smiles grace his face, just a curve of his lips almost hidden by his beard, until he’s blinking and snapping back to the reality of the situation: him teaching in front of his students. 

Some of them reach up to cover their mouths in awe at what they’ve just witnessed, while others are almost too shocked to move. Because  _ that  _ look belonged to a love-struck fool. Half of them had thought that kind of expression existed only in cheesy romance movies. But no, the lovesick fool was their intelligent professor, Dr. Rogers.

No one gets the chance-- or gains the courage-- to ask any questions because then Dr. Rogers is continuing on with the lecture and they all scramble after him because after all, Dr. Rogers waits for no one. 

* * *

For the next two weeks, sightings of the Husband are rare, but are generally the same as the first. He’ll walk into the room and Dr. Rogers’ attention will slip to the side just for a few seconds while the Husband brings him whatever drink or says something so soft that none of them ever get to properly hear him. But as always, just as fast as the Husband appears, he’s leaving just as fast, always so quiet that he never makes a sound to disrupt the lesson.

It isn’t until the third week that they finally get a bigger picture of who the mystery hubby is and  _ damn _ . 

Dr. Rogers is in the middle of describing the role of US propaganda during WWII when suddenly his head turns to the side, clearly hearing something too soft for them to pick up, but the quiet only lasts a second until there’s a distinct noise of something getting closer, fast taps against a hard floor. Then, there’s a bark. Well, a series of barks until right before their eyes, a dog props itself up against Dr. Rogers, straight in front of the camera. 

The dog-- hell, it’s cute. White nuzzle, black nose, amber brown fur around its face and down its back. The students smile, some awwing and laughing as the pupper soaks in Dr. Rogers’ attention that is now fully on its four-legged self. 

“Hey Dodge,” Dr. Rogers says as he pets and scratches the dog that’s yipping and jumping around like a toddler suped up on caffeine. “Down, boy.” There’s a bright smile on his face and he seems totally distracted, like thirty of his students aren’t openly watching him right then, but then he glances at the camera and flushes, even though he’s still petting the animal. 

Dr. Rogers starts to reach for the camera as if he’s going to turn it off, but then another noise echoes in the microphone as the Husband rushes in. 

“Sorry-- sorry!” the Husband says as he enters into the frame. They don’t see his face, just his torso and the tops of his thighs. He’s nowhere near the bulk size of Dr. Rogers. He’s slim, but has just enough thickness on him that he’s not really skinny, just more lithe. Still, it can only make some of the students ponder if those baggy sweaters the Husband likes to wear so much are actually Dr. Rogers’. 

The Husband’s fingers peek past the loose ends of yet another sweater (maroon this time) as he grabs the dog that is still too busy pressing itself into Dr. Rogers. Then, bless them all, the Husband laughs. It’s more of a giggle, really, but it’s soft like morning bells and they all stare unabashedly as Dr. Rogers looks up, both of their hands busy scratching at the dog--  _ Dodge _ , as Dr. Rogers called him earlier. 

“Someone must have been a little too eager to show you their haircut,” the Husband continues but his voice is so much softer, more intimate, and it’s directed straight at Dr. Rogers. They wish they could see the Husband’s face because they all would be willing to bet their coffee money that it would reflect just how Dr. Rogers is right then, all soft and loving, so foreign compared to how they usually see him when he’s poised and serious to the core. But then the Husband is gently grabbing onto Dodge’s collar and pulling him away. “We gotta let him work, Dodge. You’re gonna have to wait just a little bit longer.” 

They hear the noises start to fade and with their disappearance, Dr. Rogers is righting himself up again, smoothing out his sleeves and straightening his tie. Then, they all watch as Dr. Rogers checks over all of the new messages that have popped up and like a switch, their professor shifts from ‘lovey-dovey-hubby’ to ‘takes-no-shit’ Dr. Rogers real fast. He gives the camera his signature stern look, the one that makes them all question their morals and life decisions dating all the way back to their days in elementary school. 

“I’ll remind all of you to freshen your memory on what the definition of ‘private life’ is,” he tells them, gathering his papers and looking down at what looks like a copy of their syllabus schedule. “Unless you’d all rather be given an essay assignment detailing the difference between private and public. Three-thousand words should do, correct? I could easily pencil it in to be due by next week.”

When Dr. Rogers looks back up, he finds the class all rapidly shaking their heads and giving varying answers of ‘ _ no, please, no _ ’. 

Dr. Rogers nods. “That’s what I thought.” 

* * *

They don’t have to wait long before the Husband finally shows his face. 

Week five has left everyone a bit exhausted of the whole distant learning process and it doesn’t help much that they had an exam due the night before that wasn’t so cut and dry as they had all hoped. Dr. Rogers is good as hell at his job, but he doesn’t just go around handing people their grades. He makes them earn it, and as a result, makes them all appreciate their own hard work they put in. 

And as much as Dr. Rogers could easily be that blow off class, he isn’t, and just as he dedicates himself to giving good lectures, he also strongly believes in giving his students timely feedback as well as weekly updates in how they are personally doing in the class. Expectantly, it must be exhausting for him just as it is for them maintaining twelve hours of classes all now strictly online. 

While he doesn’t look it, Dr. Rogers is clearly tired. He’s been sipping at a hot coffee throughout the whole lecture but they still all watch as he seems to lag, taking too-deep breathes and rubbing at his neck and eyes far too many times to be considered normal behavior. In fact, usually Dr. Rogers is always so poised-- sitting up straight, shoulders pulled back, never slouched over. They’re so used to that version of their professor that the one in front of them seems like a bad impersonator doing his best to trick them all. 

Therefore when Dr. Rogers skips over the last few slides and declares that they’re set for independent review, they all silently cheer that their professor is ending class early. That is, not before he sends out an email to remind them of his expectations for their upcoming essays due at the end of the week (which is one that was detailed in their syllabus and not the spur-of-the-moment one about ‘privacy’, thankfully).

When Dr. Rogers says his farewell, what follows is the part of the routine where usually Dr. Rogers stops streaming and logs off. This time, though, he just clicks blindly on the screen and exhales heavily, not ending the stream at all or turning off his camera. 

It takes no time at all until the Husband enters the room. He’s in his usual attire-- forest green oversized sweater-- but instead of his normal dark jeans or soft pants, he’s showing off an impressive amount of skin thanks to the lounge shorts he’s wearing that rest high on his upper thighs. His legs are long and lean and they’re quick to make their way to Dr. Rogers. 

In one fluid motion, the Husband moves to straddle Dr. Rogers’ waist. They don’t get to see his face just yet, met only with soft looking shoulder length brown hair and his back. It speaks volumes on how he buries his face into Dr. Rogers’ neck and Dr. Rogers’ thick arms wrap easily around him. 

“You’re tired,” the Husband whispers just loud enough to be caught by the speakers. At Dr. Rogers’ slight nod, the Husband pulls back just enough to look into his face. Those thin fingers emerge from their hiding place in his sleeves and move to rake through Dr. Rogers’ blond hair. “You’ve been working hard these past few weeks.” 

“It’s part of the job.” 

The Husband hums. His fingers slide from Dr. Rogers’ hair, and shift down to trace the sides of his neck, then Dr. Rogers’ collarbones. “The job you signed up for was nowhere close to being this overwhelming. Being in quarantine doesn’t give you the excuse to stay up all night overanalyzing your lectures. You know they always come out perfect,” he whispers real close to Dr. Rogers’ mouth.

“Because I stay up late making sure they’re good and not half-assed.” 

Dr. Rogers’ answer only makes the Husband shake his head before both of his hands frame their professor’s face. 

“No,” the Husband says, dragging the word out. “Because you’re good at what you do and know what you’re talking about.”

Dr. Rogers smiles and it’s then that the Husband leans forward and presses their lips together. It isn’t a full on make out session but it certainly is intimate especially when the Husband leans forward and one of Dr. Rogers’ hands slides down the Husband’s spine before settling low on his back, his fingers curving beneath the hem of the sweater. 

When the Husband pulls away, Dr. Rogers’ eyelids are already blinking long and slow. Like sleep is something his body is pulling him to whether he likes it or not. 

“Now go shower and we can have a lazy afternoon in bed, how does that sound?” 

Dr. Rogers’ smiles and it’s like the clouds part for the sun to beam down right on him. “That sounds wonderful, sweetheart.” Then, Dr. Rogers wraps an arm around the Husband’s waist and lifts them both to their feet, as though the Husband weighs a mere ten pounds. 

Someone mutters something about dinner and while there’s another few pecks on the mouth, slowly the two men shuffle off the screen, practically intertwined as one. Then, silence. 

In the classroom chat, conversations start exploding. In the past five minutes they’ve learned more about Dr. Rogers’ than anyone at NYU probably ever has in the history of him teaching there. He is known for not sharing details about his personal life and yet just now, they’ve witnessed a direct glance into the very things he’s so secretive about. They’ve seen Dr. Rogers’  _ life _ . It’s amazing and naturally, it blows everyone’s fucking mind.

They excitedly chat with one another in the class chat section trying to guess what the husband's name might be and if anyone caught that ‘sweetheart’ slip that their professor let out, but when sounds arise again, everyone stills and looks into their screens, practically holding their breath. 

The Husband walks back into the room. Instead of going straight to the computer, the husband moves around the room, straightening things up here and there and then  _ bam--  _ that’s when they finally see the face they’ve all been dying to catch a glimpse of. 

He’s  _ stunning _ , to put it lightly, and many of the girls (along with a few of the boys) have their jaws dropping, blushing uncontrollably. They take in his icy blue eyes, the way his lips pout so naturally, the faint divot in his sharp chin. He doesn’t have a beard like Dr. Rogers, but his clean-shaved face is just as mesmerizing. And he walks around the room oblivious to the staring eyes following his every move. 

He stashes Dr. Rogers’ papers into a folder laying on the desk before taking a sip of the water Dr. Rogers had been drinking from earlier. When he’s done, he reaches out to the computer and it looks like he’s about to turn it off when he must take notice that the camera is still going and that there are, in fact, many of them still logged on and staring back at him. 

The Husband looks shy suddenly and as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear, he glances to the side where the doorway must be before looking back to the camera. He shakes his head softly, smiling at them. “Hey everyone,” he says, whispering low enough that they all figure he must be trying to be sneaky so that Dr. Rogers doesn’t hear. “Stevie always tells me so many stories about all of you and I want to say thank you for making him love what he does even though my husband drives himself to the brink of madness sometimes. Also, I know most of you are probably upset that your college days are totally skewed right now but please keep your health in consideration during this crazy time and always remember that mental health is important, too. Now go work on your homework and I hope you all have a wonderful evening.” 

He gives them a little wave where all of them look at the glint of the ring on his left hand, and then he’s gone. Unlike his husband, the pretty man knew how to end the session the correct way. 

* * *

After that, the Husband’s presence is something that makes an appearance a few times each week. Usually it’s nothing more than an arm or the side of his body, never his full self, but it’s enough that they all notice and even if they didn’t, there was no mistaking that love-sick expression on their professor’s face. 

The students decide amongst themselves that it is detrimental to figure out who the Husband actually is. One of them does a quick Google search that brings up Dr. Rogers’ Facebook profile but he’s (no shock) private and they all know it’s a useless effort to try and friend him. Someone finds a picture of Dr. Rogers receiving his doctorate and sure enough, the Husband is right by his side, only with shorter hair and dressed in a full on suit that looked fancy as hell. 

They get their first major break when a simple image reverse search for the picture directs them to an instagram account for @jbbarnes where they find out a whole shit load of things because unlike his husband, James-Barnes-but-call-me-Bucky isn’t private and he posts for all the world to see. And unlike his husband, Bucky  _ wants  _ people to see. He posts a lot and no surprise, has a shit load of followers (160K goddamn) and likes because he has such a strong aesthetic that people cling to. There’s a bunch of him, and Dodger, and while Dr. Rogers has a few shots, it’s no secret that the man likes his privacy even if his husband doesn’t agree as much. 

By the time they’re all done stalking Bucky, his follower count goes up by thirty and the latest picture of him and Dr. Rogers has comments that they all spam, complementing the both of them and giving a shout out to the best NYU professor ever. 

When they all log on for class the next day, they don’t really know if Dr. Rogers will address the cyberstalking and call it inappropriate but surprisingly, the lecture passes by smoothly and without any mention at all of one Mr. Bucky Barnes. 

_ Until _ . 

They’re all wrapping up with posting their final questions and Dr. Rogers doesn’t vanish as quickly as he usually does. When his voice rings out again, they all freeze. 

“It’s also come to my attention that many of you have been doing your research quite well regarding the private areas of my life. While I would normally not encourage this type of behavior, I… I found it quite endearing.” Many of them raise their eyebrows in surprise, other’s smile in gratitude. “My husband and I appreciated your kind words and--” 

Suddenly, lo and behold, Bucky slides in behind Dr. Rogers. It’s like magic watching how the two of them complement one another, being whole only when they're by each other’s side. Bucky’s arm wraps loosely around Dr. Rogers’ throat and he smooshes their cheeks together, smiling right at the camera. 

“And, for those that were asking, my wedding suit was a Mr Turk, and Stevie’s was a Tom Ford.”

Dr. Rogers’ eyes widened. “They found our wedding pictures? That was five years ago.” 

“I know. They scrolled through like three thousand pictures.”

That disappointed look washes over Dr. Rogers’ face and he shakes his head, frowning, “That’s just really--”

“Really sweet,” Bucky finishes for him and there’s no missing the way his arm tightens against Dr. Rogers. But he’s still smiling and when he turns to look at Dr. Rogers, he jostles the bigger man a bit until an amused smile finally graces their professor’s face.

“Sweet, sure. It’s just fascinating how tech savvy you kids are…”

“You make us seem like we’re ancient, Stevie.” 

Dr. Rogers promptly ignores him even if the rest of the class nods in agreement with Bucky because neither of them are older than thirty-two. 

“And persistent too,” their professor continues on. “I just wish some of you could devote that much effort into your assignments but, nonetheless, it was a nice gesture.” 

“And because of it, Steve is in the process of starting his own Instagram account,” Bucky says with a blinding smile, one that makes Steve chuckle and to them, it’s obvious it must be a private joke between the two.

“No, I will not be creating an Instagram,” Dr. Rogers shakes his head and then he straightens up like he’s forgotten something important, before pointing at the camera and adding, “And no, none of you will be dogsitting Dodger.” 

Bucky laughs and so do they, but mostly because Dr. Rogers looks so funny trying to be serious when his husband is totally opposite of that. He must look toward the clock and see he’s holding them past class because then he’s bidding them farewell and giving his usual blessings all while Bucky waves a parting goodbye. Dr. Rogers signs off and it’s only logical that they go back to Bucky’s instagram and comment the hashtag #DrRogersNeedsAnInsta on all of the pictures with the two of them together.

* * *

The last time they see Bucky is on the final day of classes before break. Dr. Rogers doesn’t give a lecture that day and instead, chooses to go over the review that is tied directly for their final. He answers any questions they have and gives suggestions on what chapters to study more in depth and what their possible short answer questions will be. 

He wraps it all up expertly and tells them that if they’ve been studying all year long like they’ve been expected to, then the final should be relatively easy. He wishes them well and tells them that while the plans for the future are unknown, he hopes to see them someday soon on campus. 

Some of the students start to swallow down the emotion that comes when saying goodbye to a dear teacher, and while Dr. Rogers is certainly a closed off man, he has still shown that he cares for their well-being and academic success. It sucks that their time with him as a professor was cut short but most of them vow to take another one of his classes whenever they have the open space to do it. He waves them off and presses something on the screen before he pushes away from his desk. 

He must think that he’s exited the Zoom tab when in reality all he’s done is hide the browser. They all light up the chat eagerly, hoping Dr. Rogers doesn’t notice and that hopefully their favorite Husband waltzes in. 

Which, yep, like they all knew, Bucky emerges quickly after Dr. Rogers turns the tv off. In an instant, Bucky is on him. Bucky tiptoes up to wrap his arms around Dr. Rogers’ neck and in a move so expertly executed, Dr. Rogers lifts up Bucky’s legs and tugs them around his waist. Bucky’s wearing shorts again and the angle makes them ride so high that the hem of his sweater bypasses them. 

“Done, baby?” Bucky asks just before he kisses him. 

“Yep. Now we just have finals in a week and then it’s officially summer.” 

“You mean officially staying home and sunbathing in the garden?” 

“Sounds perfect either way,” Dr. Rogers shrugs and then, everyone’s jaws hit the floor when their professor kisses Bucky. It’s always been Bucky initiating them but now, Dr. Rogers does and holy hell, it’s amazing. Dr. Rogers kisses with the kind of passion that none of them would ever dream Dr. Rogers could possess with the way he was always so strict and uptight, never looking less than professional. But no, Dr. Rogers kisses his husband as though it was the last time they would ever have the chance to, making it deep and thorough and toe-curling. Bucky returns the affection eagerly with his eyes closed and his hands grabbing and pulling for anything he can have. 

Bucky’s eyes open when Dr. Rogers lets his hand slip down to grab a handful of his backside. “Mmm, are we celebrating early tonight?” 

“Yes, and we’re gonna start now.” 

Dr. Rogers’ other hand drifts underneath Bucky’s sweater, touching skin and rubbing all over. The smile on Bucky’s mouth stretches just as he slides his fingers into Dr. Rogers’ hair. “Always so demanding,” he says with a playful huff, tugging on Dr. Rogers just enough to tilt his head back and expose the underside of his jaw, where his beard is sculpted and trimmed to perfection. Bucky latches onto the skin of his neck and gives it a good amount of attention.

“Can’t let you forget who’s in charge around here,” Dr. Rogers retorts but his body is loose and relaxed and just looking at them, they can clearly see who holds the power between the two.

Bucky pulls back just enough so that Dr. Rogers can see the expression on his face. “Oh, I believe that position belongs to me, Stevie. And I know you know that too,” he says with a smile. 

“I think we’ll need to prove it then, won’t we? Care to find out?” 

Bucky looks amused but plays along, pressing a quick kiss to Dr. Rogers’ mouth. “I don’t need proof because I already know,” Bucky says. “But by all means, go ahead and show me.”

They all watch in fascination as Dr. Rogers gives Bucky a  _ look  _ that has all of their knees going weak before his hands clench against Bucky and in two big strides, they’re disappearing from the camera. Some of them can guess where they’re going and most of them comment in the chat taking a guess at what color their bedsheets might be. 

In a group consensus, they figure that Dr. Rogers and the Husband are the type of couple who probably have fluffy all-white sheets. 

***

Later that night, when they’re both naked and lounging in bed, Steve is going through last minute emails as Bucky scrolls through social media. Most of it is the typical University quarantine updates and information about upcoming faculty meetings but one email has Steve drawing up short when he reads the subject line ‘IMPORTANT PLZ READ DR. ROGERS’ from one of his students. He opens it immediately. 

_ From: Peter Parker _

_ Subject: IMPORTANT PLZ READ Dr. ROGERS _

_ Hey Dr. Rogers, just wanted to let you know that you didn’t end your livestream after class today and there may or may not be a betting pool going around regarding the color of your bedsheets.  _

_ Oh, and do you mind telling me where your husband gets his sweaters?? They look super cozy. _

_ -Peter Parker _

Steve has to read it three times before he silently angles his phone for Bucky to see. When he’s done, Bucky laughs before sitting up to cradle Steve’s head to his chest, kissing him silly. 

“How are you such a dork and not know how to end your live streams?” Bucky asks with a giggle. 

“I don’t know… I think it’s out to get me.” 

“Right. Because clicking the little x button at the top is so difficult.”

“Just like wearing your own clothes is so difficult,” Steve shoots back, smiling at Bucky and watching as he blushes so prettily. 

“What’s yours is mine, honey.” 

Steve hums before reaching out and putting his phone on his bedside table. When he turns back over, his arm curls around Bucky and his large hand cups Bucky’s thigh before pulling it over his waist. His hand slides down and grabs a handful of the glorious skin and muscle of Bucky’s ass. “And this? Is this mine, too?” he asks as he leans their foreheads together, their breath mingling. 

Bucky rolls his eyes affectionately. “Such a dork,” he whispers. 

“ _ Your _ dork.” 

“Yes, I suppose so.” 

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is interested in seeing an example of what Bucky's instagram would look like, I totally envisioned it as @ijulian_


End file.
